There is some satisfaction, perhaps, in having correctly identified the feeling it seems the wolf before him is attempting to express with both her facial features and lowered form. He does not understand, perhaps, the complexity of the emotion as a whole- that such a thing was sadness and fear and shame and anger and worry and anxiety all in one. Such emotions do not exist for him. They are far too complex, far too detailed and outside the emotional range of the creature to perceive. Sad however, is a limited feeling and while he himself could surely not grasp it were he to feel it- that he has learned, on some level, to identify it in others is surely a pleasing thing as a purr of satisfaction rises within his throat at this momentary praise of his learning. His form moves about her own, touching and running against it, seeking to brush aware the scents of the day as he so often did each evening she returned. It displeases him to scent so many others upon her, the boy prone to jealousy perhaps, in some regards at least. He is possessive by nature of the things he deems his own, the wolf beside him most assuredly one of those things as each of his companions surely are in one way or another. He pauses only long enough to allow her head to rest beneath his chin, pressing into his chest as that long, fluffy tail flicks in momentary pleasure, Tobias preparing to rise in an effort to engage her in play as if his mere identification of her feeling of sadness was surely enough to alleviate it. It is in this moment, surely, that his lack of understanding of emotion is surely made all the more clear- the boy seeming to hold no concept of how long an emotion would or could last before Birdie begins to speak once more.

Dark-rimmed ears twist atop his skull as she speaks, head turned to face her once more in response to her voice as those golden eyes rest upon her own. He does not understand all the words she offers him. She is nervous, her words come quickly, to fast perhaps for him to grasp truly as his mind struggles to piece together what she is attempting to convey. Some words, however, are not lost to him, his gaze narrowing at this single understanding that another male had touched what is his own. The sudden invasion of images within his mind seeks perhaps, to explain what her words could not, gaze narrowed at this man that seemed to pin her to a tree- this touch alone more than he is willing to tolerate before both eyes seem to widen at his lips on her own- a feral hiss spat from his lips as his fur puffs outward and teeth expose at this enemy he can see only within his mind. Even as the image fades the large jungle cat fails to loose the dangerous aggression that has rapidly begun to build within him- his form pulling back and away from Raven. The girl herself is very near ignored, he apologies falling upon deaf ears as the agitated cat begins to pace before her. A sure sign perhaps, that his mind has ceased to function entirely within its human capacity, paws pacing upon the earth, slashing at the ground as his tail lashes like a whip from side to side.
Yet- this anger, this evident rage, is seemingly focused entirely away from Raven herself. Indeed it is as if the wolf has near ceased to exist in this moment. His world is so entirely black and white, the metaphorical grey of such a situation, that Raven had kissed another man, that she had desired someone other than he, even though her emotions were not her own- is irrelevant to the boy. It simply does not matter, his mind does not care to fixate on the manner of manipulation. He sees and understands only one single thing- that his companion had been touched. Other man had touched what is his possession and his belonging without his consent, the vampires scent still lingering upon her and indeed it is this his volatile mind fixates upon as he turns abruptly towards Raven once more.

Birdie.....got....hurt.

It is all the speech he can manage within this state of mind. His head brushes against her fur, inhaling that scent, sorting it swiftly from the others before his own affinity is rapidly engaged, the vampire location instantly pinpointed as he brushes past Raven entirely. There is....no anger, no rage, no irritation or even disappointment fixated upon the wolf girl. His mind simply does not work as such. He holds no blame to her. He cannot. She had not touched him. He had touched her and this is all the giant cat understands as his long stride begins to carry him away from the girl and towards his target. His aggression levels are decidedly dangerous tonight, animalistic instinct entirely in command of his form in this moment and each and every one of his affinities begins to stir within the heat of his blood. His focus entirely is the vampire whom had breached this most sacred of laws that even he is given to understand and yet within his current state he is entirely content to take down any and every being that should dare to cross his path- each step taking him closer and closer towards the city itself.....

madness, as you know, is like gravity: all it takes is a little push